Legolas Lives In My Closet
by Orlijah Bloomwood
Summary: A Legolas visual in the first chapter, bound to change dramatically within the next...To humor, or drama, or maybe angst. Pg-13 for language in upcoming chapters. Beware Legolas fans, first chapter may be nice, but who knows what the next ones hold for hi
1. Moonlight Dancer

I don't know what came over me when I wrote this.It's gonna be a short little thing.To practice typing and spilling out random thoughts and ideas for precious Legolas babe's fate.hehe.I luv the boy.He is wonderful, I don't care what anyone else says.My little obsession.A secret that has been kept for so long.ok.a secret that has been around for about 2 weeks, a secret that I am letting go of now.  
  
Disclaimer: I wish I owned him, that lucky, lucky man Tolkien.He gets Legolas & Frodo!!!  
  
Legolas Lives in My Closet  
  
Chapter 1- Moonlight Dancer  
  
Legolas looks at the mirror. With his hair combed out straight and his blonde highlights shining. Glistening pearly whites reflect light as he smiles. Strong muscles flex and show off his nice skin tone. He is shirtless.With a rare sex appeal.  
  
Pure, white light streams in through the windows, caressing his smooth skin. He glances up, and then lifts his head and muscular arms in one swift, fluid movement. His eyes glow with the radiance of stars, even brighter, perhaps. He begins to dance. One graceful flicker of motion after another. Moments pass, dazed with the confusion and anxiety of watching, without the ability to recall what had occurred previously. Always wanting more, seeking more, finding more, and finally letting go of it all.  
  
He stops. He stares at the sight before him; not believing what he is seeing. The door creaks open slowly behind him; he catches it reflected from the mirror. He leaps back into his safety, his shelter, his sanctuary, his closet-or should I say, a closet.  
  
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OKAY.I seriously need to lay off the caffeine and talking to Esteladuial.Well, there you are, review if I should continue or if this is too sappy for your or my taste.Remember, humour fics are my thing.Sap fics, not at all.And no, this isn't going to turn into a horrid Mary-Sue; instead there will be that randomness that most of my stories possess in later chapters. Don't make up your mind about what this fic is gonna be like now, because, when you do that, you're probably going to be wrong anyway and you'll have pre-assumed what all my stories are about and you will miss out on a chance to entertain yourselves.  
  
I really am going nuts.Only Orlando Bloom & Elijah Wood can save me now.Or else Andre Schneider. 


	2. On The Inside

I'm bak-but only for this story, please r/r-just some weird stuff that came across me brain as I was mostly brain dead-which caused me to fold paper cranes instead of writing-so I thought of this and yeah- here ya go-gotta stop talking fore it warps my brain again-  
  
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Legolas Lives In My Closet  
  
Chapter 2- On The Inside  
  
To peek or not to peek? That was the question Legolas comtemplated as he sat still and alert, feeling the cool, smooth wall behind him. The walls surrounding him were covered in pictures. Of what and whom, that is no other's business but his own.  
  
Still, he waits, underneath the safety of the his clothes that hang on wooden hangers above him on the metal racks.  
  
Surrounded.  
  
By an assortment of all types of stuffed toys-beanie babies, bunnies, duck- type creatures, and then there were other mammals too-all different shapes, all different sizes, and colours.  
  
He sat alone, plunged in darkness, with only a strip of moonlight peeking through from the room beyond.  
  
The room he so loved.  
  
The room he was inhibited from.  
  
He had only his closet now. His little closet where he would decorate and play in, any way he pleased.  
  
But it was still not the room. The room with the window that showed its onlooker so much more.  
  
So much more-that was what he wanted.  
  
More-He knew he could do so much more, without the solitary confinement of his closet.  
  
He craved more; he needed it.  
  
To peek or not to peek? The question had returned. Perhaps to haunt his precious? But no, not to haunt, maybe to dare, or suggest something more? Maybe Legolas could run free-grab hold of his potential out there. Far, far away.  
  
To peek and see Her. See Her sleeping. See Her unconscious, doing so much more, as he wished to do so.  
  
Away-in a happy dreamland. But if She stirs? Oh no. That won't be very good.  
  
Stay here, stay here, stay.  
  
Stay. Staying. Gone.  
  
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